Evil in a Mask (19 page)

Roger was the exception, as he had become fairly fluent in it during the months that the beautiful Zanthé had been his mistress; but he remained as mum as the others, having decided that it might later prove a useful card up his sleeve to understand remarks made in Turkish while he was believed to be ignorant of it. In consequence, the sole conversation consisted of their interpreter passing on to Gardane what the Pasha said, and
vice versa
.

The food served was strange to the French: some dishes were so highly spiced that it brought tears to their eyes, and they found eating it while sitting cross-legged on low divans very uncomfortable. Most disappointing of all, no dancing girls were produced, only a small band that played weird, discordant music. As early as they decently could, after many compliments exchanged through their interpreter, they bowed themselves out, and returned to the caravanserai.

Gardane had been labouring under the illusion that the officers he was to leave in Turkey to instruct the Turks in the use of modern weapons had been picked because they were capable of at least making themselves understood in Turkish. Much annoyed by the revelation they they would prove next to useless, he decreed that henceforth they must spend several hours each day receiving instruction in the language from the interpreter. Roger, although not obliged to, sat in on these sessions, as it was seven years since he had parted from Zanthé, and he had forgotten much of the Turkish he had learned from her. To all appearances he proved a poor pupil, but listening in greatly refreshed his memory.

The only enjoyment the members of the mission derived
from their stay in Constanza was the lovely sunshine; but that was more than offset by the irritation inflicted on them by lice and bedbugs. Much to their relief, on their fourth day in the port, a good-sized vessel had been chartered to take them on to Constantinople.

On the 5th May they went aboard and set sail. Roger hated travelling by sea as, in rough weather, he was always seasick, and the quarters below deck were cramped and uncomfortable. Luckily for him, the weather continued clement, although now and then the winds were unfavourable so it took nine days for the ship to cross the south-western bight of the Black Sea. But during the voyage the lessons in Turkish were continued; so by the time they entered the Bosphorus his knowledge of the language had returned to such a degree that he felt confident that he would have no difficulty at all in conversing easily in it.

All agreed on the beauty of the scene as the ship ploughed her way down the narrow waters that, between high hills, separate Europe from Asia. Then, on the afternoon of May 14th, when she entered the Golden Horn and berthed at Pera, they gazed with awe at the splendid spectacle presented by Seraglio Point on the opposite side.

Beyond a high wall on the shore of the promontory there sloped up terraced gardens and groups of tall cypresses to the scores of pavilions that formed the Palace of the Sultan. Above them and further inland, the domes of great mosques and towering minarets stood out against the azure sky.

For those of them possessed of imagination, it was fascinating to think that there, across the narrow strip of water, lay Stamboul, the site two thousand years before of a Greek colony, then, after the fall of Rome, the fabled Byzantium, for a thousand years the capital of the Eastern Roman Empire and for the past four hundred the seat of power from which its Turkish conquerors still ruled an Empire that was in extent twenty times the size of any European Kingdom.

Immediately the ship docked, Gardane sent two of his officers ashore with the interpreter to the French Embassy. They returned with the Ambassador, General Sebastiani. He was
then thirty-five, a man of splendid physique, extraordinarily handsome and known throughout the Army for his unfailing charm and good humour. To the amazement of Roger, Gardane and several other members of the mission who were acquainted with him, he appeared to have aged ten years. His face was furrowed, his eyes lacked lustre and he approached them with a dejected stoop.

It occurred to Roger that the Ambassador must have caught the plague, with which from time to time Constantinople was afflicted, and was only now recovering; but Sebastiani's first words explained his sad condition. To Gardane he said:

‘General, I am in a poor state to welcome you and these gentlemen. A few weeks ago, my beloved wife, Fanny, gave birth to a child. Soon after she fell victim to a deadly fever, and I lost her. This bereavement has stricken me utterly. I am a changed man and no longer fit for anything. My only wish is to return as soon as possible to France and be left alone with my grief. I have remained here awaiting your arrival only so that I might present you to the Sultan.'

After they had expressed their deep sympathy, he led them ashore and had them carried in palanquins up the steep hill to the Embassy. Spacious as it was, formerly having been a Pasha's palace, it was not large enough to accommodate them all; but, having been warned by fast courier of the mission's coming, Sebastiani had rented two houses nearby for the junior officers. Gardane, Roger, Couthon, Ladue, Rideau and the Ambassador's old travelling companion Montdallion, were to be his personal guests. After partaking of refreshments and being given ample time to settle into their new quarters, the officers staying in the Embassy went down to dine with the Ambassador. He had obviously made an effort to pull himself together and, over the meal, gave them particulars of the situation in Constantinople. Looking at Gardane, he said:

‘About the possibilities of your success in Persia I can give no opinion; but here everything favours your aims.

‘Very fortunately for us, the English blundered badly last winter by forcing the Dardanelles and threatening Constantinople. The Turks were outraged and, urged on by me, dragged
every cannon they could lay their hands on to the waterfront, in order to bombard the English Fleet. Finding themselves outgunned, the Fleet beat an ignominious retreat. The British Ambassador, the Hon. Charles Arbuthnot, having been informed that he was
persona non grata
, received his passports and departed to join the Fleet off Tenedos. Since then there has been no representative here of the Court of St. James, so you need fear no opposition.'

Roger had anticipated that this would probably be the case. It confirmed his assumption that he could secure no help or advice, and must act entirely on his own initiative.

Meanwhile, Sebastiani was going on. ‘Contrary to the belief of most people, the Sultan is by no means all-powerful. Selim III was exceptionally fortunate in that, unlike his predecessors for many years past, he was not kept a prisoner for the whole of his young manhood. In consequence, he has a much greater knowledge of statecraft and international relationships than would otherwise have been the case.

‘Even so, he is hedged about by the age-old traditions that must be observed by a Sultan if he wishes to retain his throne. To start with, he dare not offend the Janissaries. As you no doubt know, they were originally a corps formed from Circassians taken when very young from their mothers and reared as professional soldiers to form the Sultan's bodyguard. But, with the passing of time, they have become an army a hundred thousand strong. Formidable bodies of them have been sent to support the rule of Turkish Pashas in rebellious provinces, but at least ten thousand of them are retained here to garrison the Seraglio, and many of them now are Turks who refuse to obey the old ordinances forbidding Janissaries to take wives or drink alcohol.

‘When the Sultan issues a
firman
to which they object, they carry their soup kettles out from their quarters and beat furiously upon them. It is one of the most sinister and frightening noises I have ever heard; and, unless the Sultan retracts his order, he risks death at their hands.'

Sebastiani paused for a moment to take a mouthful of wine. ‘But it is not only the Janissaries to whom the Sultans in the
past hundred years have become subservient. Their policy has been controlled very largely by the will of a woman. Do not mistake me, I do not mean that they become enslaved by the charms of a favourite wife or concubine. Naturally, they are influenced in minor domestic matters, such as the allocation of the best apartments, the bestowal of jewels and so on by a
Kadin
or one of the hundreds of odalisques who may have captured their affections; but while a Sultan can have as many women as he chooses to share his bed, he can have only one mother.

‘A Sultan's mother is known as the Sultan Validé. To have attained this unique status against fanatical competition, it is obvious that such women must be exceptionally strong-willed and intelligent. In consequence, once her son has ascended the throne, her power is almost unlimited. In consultation with the Kizler Aga—the Chief of the Black Eunuchs, who is known by us as
Son Altesse Noire
—they rule the harem absolutely. Nothing can be done without the Sultan Validé's consent. Moreover, her power extends far beyond the Seraglio. She is regarded with veneration as the protectress of all the veiled women in the Turkish Empire. No war is entered upon without her consent. Every matter of international relationship is submitted to her, and no Sultan yet has dared openly to reject his mother's counsel.'

Sitting back, Sebastiani gave a sad smile, and added, ‘Messieurs, in this we are favoured by the gods. The present Sultan Validé was born Aimée Dubucq de Rivery, a French woman and a cousin of our Empress. For many years she has served the cause of France devotedly. She is the mother of Prince Mahmoud, who, it is certain, will succeed; and on the death of the Sultan's mother, in 1805, she was raised by Selim to the Veiled Crown.

‘Brief as my time has been as Ambassador—only a matter of ten months—my … my beloved Fanny won her affection and became her constant companion. Alas, you are now bereft of my wife's help, and such as I could give you. Even so, you may count upon it that the Sultan Validé will welcome you warmly and do her utmost to aid you in your mission.'

About the restricted power of Sultans and the organisation of the Seraglio Roger already knew, owing to his long affair with Zanthé. The one thing he had been anxious to learn was whether Aimée was still alive and now the reigning Sultan Validé. Upon that his decidedly nebulous plans had been based; so he was much relieved to hear that no harm had befallen her.

He was amused to think how amazed the assembled company would have been had he revealed to them how his own life had been changed by Bonaparte's decision clandestinely to abandon his army in Egypt in '99. With the greatest secrecy he had made his plans and, without informing any but a few of his personal staff, had them accompany him aboard a frigate overnight. Zanthé, believing herself abandoned, had later married Achilles Sarodopulous, the son of an immensely wealthy banker, who lived in Alexandria. Otherwise Roger might have claimed the Sultan Validé as his mother-in-law.

Sebastiani went on to say that he had that afternoon sent a request to the Grand Vizier to present the Mission to the Sultan; but he thought it unlikely that they would be granted an audience for some days. In the meantime, although they were free to go out into the city, they must not do so unaccompanied. It was customary for European merchants in Constantinople to go about in Oriental dress, as anyone wearing Western clothes, being a rare sight, always attracted attention and crowds formed round them, which could prove most embarrassing. He was, therefore, attaching to each officer a Turkish Janissary, as they could be hired for such a purpose. These Janissaries would act as guides and, by a few sharp words, ensure the unimpeded progress of their charges.

Next morning, the Janissary allotted to Roger reported to him. All Turks retained a tuft of hair on the tops of their heads, otherwise the majority of them allowed only their beards to grow; but the Janissaries were forbidden to have beards. Instead, they had very long moustaches which, in some cases, drooped down to their chests. Roger's man was clad in a long, blue cloth coat, an undercoat with hanging sleeves and a big turban, through which was thrust a twelve-inch-long soup
spoon—that being an ancient custom of the regiment. Above it sprouted a plume of bird-of-paradise feathers. From his girdle there hung a scimitar, a dagger and a small hatchet. His boots were black, which Roger later learned showed him to be of the lowest rank, the higher one wearing yellow and the highest red. To the casual glance he appeared a colourful and fierce figure; but Roger noted that his eyes were mild and that he was far from young. He announced himself with a deep salaam as Achmet Zuhayr and declared that ‘Allah willing—blessed be his name and that of his Prophet'—he would protect Roger from all thieves, pickpockets, casters of evil spells and diseased women.

Regarding it as unlikely that if he spoke with ease to Achmet the surprisingly sudden improvement in his Turkish would get back to any member of the mission, Roger thanked him, talked to him for a while about the city, then said he would like to be shown round Pera.

During the long journey down from Finckenstein, as
le brave Breuc
was one of the legendary figures of the
Grande Armée
, his friendship had been eagerly sought, particularly by the younger members of the mission, and he had spent many pleasant evenings with them, talking of the Emperor's early campaigns. In consequence, he had feared that he might have considerable difficulty in freeing himself from their company when the mission arrived in Constantinople; but, fortunately, they were in the rented houses and none of the senior officers staying in the Embassy was about when Roger and Achmet came downstairs.

For an hour they strolled through the maze of steep, twisting streets. Roger duly admired the famous White Tower, built centuries earlier by the Genoese, the view across the Golden Horn to Stamboul, and that across the Bosphorus to the Asiatic side; then he told Achmet that he wished to buy Balkan clothes, possibly to wear now and then while in Constantinople and, in any case, to take back to France as a souvenir of his visit. Achmet replied that the best value in all things was to be found in the Grand Bazaar.